


Be the Leaf

by orphan_account



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Book 1, F/M, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 02:36:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6220327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written during Season 1. Korra learns to breathe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be the Leaf

  
   “Again.”

  
    Korra grits her teeth at the word. Her eyes clench shut to avoid the sweat running down her forehead. Her thighs ache from bracing her landings, and her fingernails dig into her palms.

  
    Her feet slap into the ground, and she can feel Tenzin’s sigh like an autumn gust behind her. He told her she can’t face it running.

  
   (how can she feel the air if she’s not running?)

  
-earth under her feet, blood pumping through her veins, Korra can feel the fire in her lungs as she darts into the jittering mass of spinning doors. She pulls to the side, narrowly avoiding getting clipped in the shoulder, but already another swinging board has slammed into her back, a sharp line of pain sinking into her shoulder.

  
   Being touched once, she has already failed, can hear Meelo’s dramatic groan though she cannot see him. Wind buffets her from all sides, sharp and invisible. The urge to stop, to sink, engulfs her. She wants surrender, not this flighty dance of walking on wire.

  
   She fights anyway.

  
   The doors slam her harder, as though angry at the suggestion. They spin playfully, beautifully, but her feet are on the ground; her mind is chaos, fury fire. She is slammed out the other end, and grunts.

  
   Her back is one long bruise, and her legs are burning.

  
   “Again.” Tenzin says, his voice calm but inscrutable.

  
   She grits her teeth. She starts to run.

  
=

  
   “I’ll have another!” Bolin calls, raising a hand to the irate woman behind the counter. She reminds Korra of the fisherwomen from her village. It makes her feel fond and warm.

   It makes her feel guilty.

  
   There is a difference between what you want and what you need. Where you should be and where you are. When she was at the water village, her bones ached with the need to see the world. Not just impulse, but need. A calling.

  
   She was called out of refuge. Out of her cloistered world. But where was she meant to be now? The call in her heart stopped, quieted. Was she needed here in Republic city? It felt too big for any one person. Even the Avatar. A hanging poster demanding non-bender rights caught her eye and she looked away. Especially not the Avatar it seemed.

  
   “You want another drink?” Bolin asks, already beginning to stand.

  
   “No, I’m good.”

  
   “Suit yourself.” He says with a wink, walking towards the bar. Their eyes are the difference in autumn and spring. Not that she should be thinking about Mako. She had her answer now.

  
   Honestly the volcano might have been the better option.

  
   “I got you another drink anyway.” Bolin announces. “The barkeeper gave it to me for free. On account of how pretty I am.”  
   He drops his voice to a stage whisper, leaning close enough that she can feel his breath brushing her ear.“I think she has a crush.”

  
   “I think you’ve had too many noodles.” Korra says wryly.

  
   His grin lights up the table.

  
   “To the Fire Ferrets!” He shouts, raising his glass.

  
   She can drink to that.

  
=

  
   Every sound is like a slap. Her ears sting and her hands are restless, itchy. She can hear the three children breathing, each sound distinct. Each sound a scratch. The trees rattle overhead.

  
   Meditation is impossible.

  
    She longs for the sweet peace she feels when she is practicing her form. Even the sharp burn of her muscles is another thing to focus her. Her hair slaps against the side of her neck, rustled by a playful breeze, and distracted she reaches up to push it away. The motion makes Tenzin sigh, and she puts her hand back down, guilty.

  
   Even the doors are better than this.

  
=

  
   “I can’t-“ Mako says hoarsely, and then their mouths are fused together, the fire a pulsing thing to be shared between them. His hands flutter on her sides, before she pulls him to her. He tastes sharp and citrus, and his skin is unexpectedly hot to the touch.

  
   “Korra-“

  
   She pushes forward, she hangs her chin out there, she kisses like they’re burning. She can’t let him go. She can’t pull away.

  
   He does it for her.

  
   “I can’t.” He snaps, and then he’s out of her hands, fixing his scarf, scowling. Her eyes feel gritty, her mouth still slick, and open, and wanting.

  
   “Mako-“

  
   He leaves in silence.

  
   She misses Bolin.

  
=

  
   Sometimes when she dreams, the dreams aren’t her own. She dreams of people and places she’s never seen. She experiences whole lives in her dreams.

  
   In the morning she’ll wake up feeling heavy, as though she has swallowed a stone and it has sunk to the bottom of her.

  
   Her own friends and family seem far away, her hands seem small and not her own. She is a stranger in a strange land. Master Katara told    her that Aang dreamed.

  
   But who doesn’t dream?

  
=

  
   Heavy stone disks whizz overhead, crashing into the wall with a sound like thunder. Her shirt sticks to her body, heavy with sweat under the regulation armor. Fire flicks at her heels, but already she is not where she was.

  
   Her whole body is motion, a springing coiling dash of electricity. Her back bends like a leaf in the wind, her feet planted firmly on the ground. She wraps a tendril of water around Mako’s ankle and yanks.

  
   He falls with a curse, fingertips flaming but she is gone.

  
    Bolin’s arms fling out, corded muscle straining the shoulders of his Fire Ferrets uniform. The thrusting steps of his feet telegraph his next move as clearly as the jut of his chin. She leaps clear and for a dizzying moment is air born, the wind lifting and guiding her feet to the ground. She tumbles and rolls, but she's grinning, exultant.

  
    And now that she has felt it once, she could feel it a million times. The wind calls to her, and she reaches for it, ready.

  
   Mako’s fire chases after her, and she can hear the grate of Bolin’s stone sliding together.

  
   She can feel the wind pushing into her lungs.

  
   Korra grins and feels alive.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel the [wind](honeyedlion.tumblr.com), and float me a request.


End file.
